Warrior One-Shots
by Quilava's Storybook
Summary: Welcome to the chapter in this storybook dedicated to warriors one-shots. They could be challenges from forums or just ideas that have been made into a reality.
1. The legend of Heart and Soul

**A challenge from TheSoulsAura in the forum** Moonclan

Summary (kind of): Forgiveness is fragile, hard to come by, hard to receive, yet important to all. Understanding is even harder to catch between your claws, yet is even more vital. When two kits get into an argument with each other and can't apologize, what will happen? Will they find it in themselves to forgive one another, or will they be forever floating in the waters of indecision, stuck between a Scylla and Charybdis until it is too late? The journey of heart and soul, loyalty and courage, the ties of friendship, the strength of one, the fear of another, and the hand of destiny.

The legend of Heart and Soul, and the story of Mistakes

"Did you hear? Did you hear? There's a badger in our territory! They were talking about it during the clan meeting!" A small kit groaned as excited words entered her dreams, chasing them away like a young apprentice landing in the middle of a plump field of mice, sending the creatures skittering every which way except near her hungry paws. The silver-furred kit inched open one sleep-crusted eye, hesitant to leave the quite world of dreams.

"They say the badgers huge! Apparently it's an old one that had already stumbled into the other clans' territories. They successfully drew it away, but at the cost of two young apprentices' lives. They say it has fearsome claws and even scarier teeth that could rip apart a full-grown cat without hesitation!" an excited kit cried, her orange fur glistening as if it was made of gold.

The small kit shivered at her friend's words, imagining a fearsome beast that would stop at nothing to drink a cat's blood. Burying her head deeper into the moss bedding, the small, silver kit tried to find comfort in drinking in the sweet scent mixed with that of her mother's fur. She hoped the badger would never come near their den, their home. The kit imagined what it would be like to realize this was her last moment alive, a life cut short by the cruel claws of fate. She imagined the look on her friends face when she found that her closest companion was gone. Gone forever in the inky darkness of death, with a whispering hiss in their ears and never-said words in their dying breath. Some cats said they went to Starclan, to roam fields full of prey in the sky far above, but it was no replacement for the life they could have had. Should have had.

Shivering, the silver-furred kit pressed her pelt deeper into the tangled moss, desperately wishing she would never have to see her friend get hurt in the same manner.

"Rawr! You'll never get me, you evil old badger!" The sudden cries were accompanied by soft paws digging into her small frame and sharp teeth gnawing harmlessly at her neck. Screeching in surprise, the small kit staggered under her friend's weight as she attempted to run, thinking a badger had come to eat her, to kill her friend. "Yeah, that's right! Run, old badger! You're no match for Thornkit the mighty!"

Realizing it was her friend and not some beast, the silver furred kit rolled on the ground, throwing the orange kit off before turning angrily at her bemused friend. " _What_ are you _doing_?" the silver kit hissed, gleaming tail swishing and black-tipped ears held back in her fury.

The other kit was taken aback by her friend's reaction, scrambling up from the ground and puffing up her fur. She had dark orange, short fur, considerably different from her friends gleaming silver coat. A long, black strike stretched from her snarling muzzle, down her arched back, and up to the tip of her lashing tail. Black stripes sprouted from it like thorns, the kitten's namesake, and it fit the kit well, easy to pick up and hard to get rid of. "I-I was just playing! I thought it would be fun to play-fight like we were fighting a badger! Not as exciting as the real thing, of course," Thornkit replied hastily, amber eyes awash with fear, confusion, and just a tinge of anger, her orange fur glinting as if it was made of gold.

The silver kit became even angrier after hearing her friend's words, puffing up her long, silver fur and pulling her black-tipped ears farther back as she just about managed to hiss out a reply. "Just playing? Just playing?! You just about frightened me to death! You need to tell someone before you start playing your silly games on them!"

"What do you mean, silly! There fun! Your way too serious about these things, Silverkit!" Thornkit wasn't quite as angry as Silverkit was, still confused about the whole situation. Why was her friend so angry all-of-a-sudden?

"Were about to become apprentices, Thornkit! It's time you stopped playing dangerous games and start acting your age! Unless you want to be a kit for another six moons, that is," Cloudy eyes glared in anger as Silverkit tried to pound some sense into her friend's head.

Upon hearing her friend's words, Thornkit brought one black paw to her chest, taking a single step back in surprise. _Let me get this straight,_ the kit thought _. My friend wants me to stay a kit for six more moons? When we promised we would be apprenticed together? For an incident as silly as a simple game? This makes no since! Does she… not want to be my friend anymore?_ Thornkit's amber eyes began to well up in tears, whiskers drooping momentarily at the realization of friend's misunderstood words. _Then… then I don't want to be her friend anymore either!_

The orange kit's heart hardened, hissing out a now truly angry reply, "Well… well you're just a scaredy cat, Ms. I am the boss of everyone! I bet you can't even fight a badger if you tried!"

"Of course I can't!" the silver kit yowled, voice raising in horror at the suggestion. "And neither can you! Were still kits after all, with no battle experience!"

"Well, I bet I could! In fact, why don't I go show you! Or are you too much of a kittypet to come?" Thornkit taunted.

"I'm not going, and neither are you!"

"Kittypet! Kittypet! Scared little Kittypet!"

"I'm not a kittypet!"

"Then come with me! We can fight the badger together!"

"No!"

"Then you admit you are scared!"

"Of course I'm scared! But is being scared for your friend's life such a bad thing?"

"Yes! It just shows you don't believe in me! Aren't friends supposed to believe in each other?"

"I believe in you! I just don't want you to get hurt!" The kit's voice was now desperate, terror edging it's way in. If her friend decided to fight that badger…

"Liar! You just don't want me to get all the glory!"

"Thornkit, that's not the truth at all!"

"It is the truth, and we both know it!"

"Please don't go! You're my friend. I don't want anything to happen to you. The world is so big out there… I admit it. I'm scared. Scared for you. My friend." Anger left the silver kit's voice as she said those words, desperate for her friend to understand. A few silent moments passed, as If Thornkit was shocked at her friend's words and didn't know how to reply. Finally, Thornkit let out a hollow meow.

"No. No were not."

"What do you…?"

"We're no longer friends, Silverkit." With those words, Thornkit walked out of the nursery, paws landing hard on the ground as she pressed them deep into the dirt in silent anger.

…

Did she make the wrong choice? Should she have listened to her friend, kept their friendship? No, her friend hadn't believed in her. They had vowed to be friends forever, to believe in each other no matter what, and her friend had broken that promise. Stepping silently out camp, Thornkit prepared to fight the badger, staring down at her tiny claws in silent contemplation. Words still rang in her head, prepping her mind to turn back even thought her body said no. This was her battle, and if her friend, no if Silverkit, didn't believe in her, then Silverkit no longer deserved to be friends with her. And yet _… I believe in you! I just don't want you to get hurt! Of course I am scared! But is being scared for your friend's life such a bad thing?_ The kit turned back into camp, unable to keep those words out of her head.

…

Silverkit felt follow, empty inside. The vow she had made seemingly ages ago… _Friends forever, until the end! We will believe in each other, stand paw in paw! Our claws are one, our hearts are true, forever together, me and you!_ She broke the vow… the vow that was so dear to their hearts. She needed to apologize, but… she was scared. If her friend… no, Thornkit wasn't her friend anymore… if Thornkit got into a fight with that badger… Silverkit shuddered at the thought. How could she apologize, if apologizing meant losing Thornkit forever?

…

Silverkit padded out of the nursery, her head in a big jumble like a ball of moss that had been batted around one too many times. Unable to keep her mind on where she was going, the small kit tripped and fell head over heels before bumping into a cat near the entrance of the camp. Looking up at her savior, she was about to thank the cat that had stopped her, but the words stopped before they left the silver kit's mouth as she saw who it was. Thornkit.

A part of Silverkit leaped in joy that Thornkit hadn't pursued the badger after all. Perhaps she was sorry. Perhaps she had thought over her friend's words. Perhaps she wouldn't get hurt at all. Perhaps everything could resume as it was before, like nothing had happened.

Silverkit's hopes were bashed as Thornkit stalked away, tail high in the air, without another glance. Maybe it was she who needed to say sorry, not Thornkit. Yes. It was. Saying sorry might mean losing Thornkit forever, but without Thornkit being her friend, she was already gone.

Silverkit snuck into the elders den, carefully padding in, her gaze sweeping the cats inside for Thornkit. Yes, there she was, listening to an old ginger tom with one eye, lost in a fight with a fox, he said. Silverkit padded over, preparing the words in her mind. She would say she was sorry. Sorry for breaking the vow so dear to them. If it was what Thornkit really wanted, then Silverkit would stand at her side beside the badger.

Thornkit met Silverkit's gaze, surprised at seeing her old friend here. She almost spat out the words, "what are you doing here?" but in respect for the elder, she said nothing. Instead, her amber eyes gazed into Silverkit's cloudy ones, hard anger lingering in their gaze. Silverkit opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but hesitated. For a moment, Thornkit saw ravenous fear in Silverkit's gaze, before Silverkit dashed out of the den, resentment and an untold fear hard on her paws.

…

"Have you seen Thornkit and Silverkit lately?" a questioning voice arose as two cats spoke near the fresh kill pile. "It's almost the day of their ceremony. I have been trying to decide who their mentors should be, Smokestripe."

The cat she was talking to replied over a mouthful of shrew, "Well, Dawnstar, I haven't seen them around at all. According to cats I've talked to, it's been days since they even looked at each other. Fernclaw thinks they must have had a fight. She saw them in the elders den, said the atmosphere was so tense between them that it could be cut with a claw."

"That's exactly what I've been worried about, Smokestripe. Thornkit and Silverkit have always been close friends, so close they even asked to be apprenticed together. But today Silverkit made her way to my den to ask if she could be apprenticed after Thornkit. I'm scared of what might have happened between the two of them, and was wondering what you thought I should do. You always seem to have good advice."

"Well, I think we should-"

Dawnstar interrupted Smokestripe as she saw a flicker of movement near the camps entrance, a tiny, black-striped, orange tail disappearing into the world outside. "Smokestripe, did you see something?"

"What do you mean?"

"I could have sworn I saw Thornkit leaving camp." Dawnstar said in confusion, before roughly shaking her head. "Perhaps it was just a trick of the light."

…

Thornkit lashed her tail about as she stalked out of camp. Only moments earlier her old friend had bumped into her in the nursery. She recalled the short conversation they had had, _"Why do you keep running into me!" Thornkit said as Silverkit stood across from her, mouth open as if trying to say something but unable to find the right words. "If you have something to say, just say it!"_

 _"Look, Thornkit," Silverkit finally managed to say, "I'm really-"_

 _"What, scared? Not a good friend? A promise-breaker? Shut your trap, I don't want to hear it. You're no friend of mine." With that, the orange kit dashed out of the nursery, determined to destroy the badger once to prove her fri-no, Silverkit, wrong._

Thornkit bounded through the forest, attempting to taste the air like the warriors in her clan. Unable to tell the jumbled scents from one another, the black-striped kit growled in frustration. She would just have to find the badger some other way.

…

Branches lashed out at Silverkit's long pelt, determined to catch her and slow her down, to push her farther away from her goal. Why couldn't she have said it there and then? Said she was sorry and gotten on with it? Instead she had made Thornkit even more determined to scare away the badger that still lingered on their territory. It was easy enough to track her frie- Thornkit down. She had known the amber-eyed kits scent since the moment she was born, and finding it in this forest wasn't too much of a challenge. But with no way of knowing whether she was getting closer, the small kit felt as if she was running desperately to reach a line on the horizon, each step making her gasp for breath as she raced towards a goal that kept getting farther away, running endlessly on legs that were too slow.

Silverkit screeched to a halt as she reached a large clearing, sighting her friend ahead. Her friend was searching the clearing, trying to scent the ground, orange fur glinting as if it was made of gold. Thornkit was standing cautiously, not sighting her old friend or a large, lumbering beast behind her. It was black, with a long white stripe running down its head and a glistening smile, like that of a hawk about to catch its long awaited prey. A large paw was raised, claws glinting, aimed at Thornkit's back.

Terror in her eyes, Silverkit raced towards Thornkit, pushing her out of the way before the badger struck. She felt a painful stinging sensation race through her body as the claws, surprised at the change of events, landed at her side. Fighting off the pain, Silverkit turned to face the badger, unsheathing her tiny claws. She leaped at the badger, scrambling over its tough fur before scoring her claws across its eye. The badger screamed in pain, throwing the small kit off. Silverkit landed hard on the ground, her silver pelt glinting with crimson blood. Thornkit stared in horror, racing towards Silverkit's side, her mind racing at the sudden change of events. Did Silverkit just… save her?

Silverkit, seeing her friend, breathed heavily before meowing, "I'm sorry, Thornkit."

Thornkit, tears in her eyes, recalled what Silverkit had said before, a sudden fear clouding her mind, _"Is being scared for your friend's life such a bad thing?"_ Thornkit's whiskers drooped, a thousand things running through her mind that she was unable to say, thousands of rabbits that disappear down dark holes as soon as she made a move to catch them. "Silverkit… I don't want you to get hurt either," the orange kit managed to meow.

Before either of them could say anything else, the badger rumbled over, resuming its attack. Thornkit supported her friend as they attacked the enraged beast together. "Friends forever, until the end! We believe in each other, stand paw in paw! Our claws are one, our hearts are true, forever together, me and you!"

…

Dawnstar raced through the forest, hearing the commotion of battle ahead. Her keen eyes picked up two kits, fighting as one, as a badger attempted to bring them down. She pumped her legs harder, wishing she had pursued the kit earlier instead of brushing it off as a trick of the light. As the leader raced closer to the blood-bathed clearing, Thornkit was hit hard. As the little kit struggled to stand, Silverkit raced in, yowling the words, "Friends forever, until the end! We believe in each other, stand paw in paw!" The next words were caught off as the black and white beast landed the killing blow, and Silverkit fell motionless to the forest floor. Dawnstar watched as Thornkit buried her muzzle in her friend's side. Dawnstar could almost feel the grief pouring through the small kitten, the regret, the untold word swirling forever in a dark abyss, as the beast came lumbering in to take her life too. Dawnstar, almost upon them, managed to shout, "Run!" to the small kit. But Thornkit stood motionless, too devoted to her dearest friend to leave Silverkit's side.

"Today we mourn the deaths of two devoted friends and young lives, Silverkit and Thornkit." Dawnstar meowed, as the clan gazed sorrowfully up at her. "I ask my warrior ancestors to look down on these two young kits, lives yet to be fulfilled, who were to be given the name of apprentice today. Silverkit, who gave up her life to protect her friend, and Thornkit, who stayed with her friend until the end. Let Starclan receive them as apprentices, Silverkit under the name of Soulpaw for her bravery and caring, and Thornkit under the name of Heartpaw for her devotion to her friend in her darkest hour."

And so, the legend of Soulpaw and Heartpaw was born, names to be forever remembered as lives cut short by the swirling darkness of death, who had to choose between a Scylla and Charybdis and chose Charybdis. Friends forever, paw in paw, their claws as one, their hearts true, walking the swirling, black road of death together.

 **Before you kill me- yes I know the ending wasn't that original, and that the names/ceremonies may or may not be canon. Also, can cats cry? I'm highly curious. I have never seen my cats do it, but some writing thinks they can.**

 **Keep on reading and writing, and I hope you enjoyed this short story! I enjoyed writing it, and though I will mainly be focusing on "Double P," I might drop in a few short stories and/or challenges like this one that I have written. They are what I enjoy writing most, after all.**


	2. I Want to be a Leader

**I have a feeling that there are going to be a few more of these, so I might as well make a special place for it in this storybook. This is a challenge from the forum Night Stalkers (has no idea how to make links).**

 **Disclaimer** **: I do not own the song "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" or warriors. They are owned by their respective owners.**

I Want to be a Leader One Day (A parody of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" by John Rox)

I want to be a leader one day  
Only being a leader will do  
Don't want an apprentice  
Nor being a medicine cat  
I want to be a leader of a clan

I want to be a leader by next moon  
I don't think the clan will mind, do you?  
They won't have to sit  
With bloodlust in their veins  
We'll destroy every cat  
That's the simple thing to do

I can see me now that fateful morning  
Creeping to her den  
Oh what joy and what surprise  
When I open up my eyes  
To see my leader dead in her own bed

I want to be a leader tomorrow  
Only being a leader will do  
Not a deputy  
Nor silly medicine cat  
I only like being a leader  
And I'm sure the clan will love it too

I want to be a leader tomorrow  
Only being a leader will do  
Mom says our leader is important to the clan  
I say our leader could do with a ban

I want to be a leader this morning  
the best kind of leader I will be  
Can't you imagine it, me standing on that rock  
I'd order my clan to take a stand  
and fill the forest with blood

I can see me on that blood-bathed morning  
Creeping to her den  
Oh what joy and what surprise  
When I open up my eyes  
To see my leader dead by my own claws

I will be a leader this morning  
Only being a leader will do  
No other cats  
To stand in my way  
I'd make the dawn a crimson bloodbath  
And I'm sure the clan would like me leader too


	3. Control - The Thorn or the Flower

**A challenge for the forum Night Stalkers (And... the link didn't work...)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own warriors**.

 _Long ago, there was a distant tundra  
swept by wind and laden with snow.  
And sharing that tundra were four clans  
each led by their own leader.  
Into one of these clans, a silver kit was born  
that shimmered with promise of prophecy.  
Mosskit, they called her, and then Mosspaw.  
As she grew, so did her ambition  
and in her green eyes was a stubborn light.  
Fearful of what to come,  
they called her Mossthorn.  
But was she the thorn or the flower?_

A beautiful silver tabby stood, watching the horizon as it was bathed in crimson light, staining the glistening white tundra a sickening red. Whispering wind played with her fur, blowing it this way and that as her green eyes stared fixed on the horizon, deep in thought. _This is the final morning, the morning where justice will be served. Today is the day of reckoning, and I shall take control of the clans in this tundra, to teach them what it really means to be united. For as long as time they have held their petty squabbles over prey and land, always prey and land._ Behind the tabby shone a shimmering army, phantoms in the wind, spirits seeking revenge. _All these cats died, only for their deeds to be ignored, following blindly the orders of their leader._

 _Well I'm not blind._

The tabby rose from her position and sprinted towards the horizon, outlines appearing out of the red mist. _They say there will always be four clans on this tundra. I say this is nonsense. One clan is all we needed, and never again will the snow glisten a sickening red. They say that it is impossible, I say that they are blind to reason._

 _Well I'm not blind._

The outlines hardened as the shining silver cat swept through the tundra, and soon shapes of cats appeared in the blood-bathed haze. _The deed has been done, and for the last time my claws glisten with blood as their leaders lie dying in the cover of night. Now I can take these four clans and under my paws make them one. For forever and a day they have been swept up in cozening beliefs, and now I can show them the light, make their blind eyes see once more._

 _For I am not blind._

Soon the haze dispersed, leaving grief-stricken cats mulling about the tundra in confusion and worry. _For killing these cats they had me driven out of camp. They called me the thorn that would destroy them all. They called my plans bloodthirsty and said I had a dangerous lust for control. I don't call it control. I call it showing them the light. For not seeing that, these cats are blind._

 _Well I'm not blind._

The silver tabby reached these confused cats, and let out a yowl. With deceiving words as beautiful as song she made them believe. Made them see the light. Took control of them all. _And now the day of reckoning has come. Four has become one, and I control them all. They called me a thorn, but a thorn I am not._

 _I am the flower._


	4. I Will Never Forget You- Lose the War

A challenge for Night Stalkers.

 _Fight the fight,_

 _Win the battles,_

 _Lose the war._

* * *

 _Battles can be such bloodthirsty things,_

Muscles whirled on the blood-bathed battlefield, dipped in a crimson haze. Cats fought and snarled, baring their teeth and claws in a whirlwind of chaos. In the middle of this petty dispute was a soft queen, her tortoiseshell coat gleaming crimson as she crouched in fear, fighting with all her might to save unborn kits inside her. The queen was facing a hulking tom, his eyes gleaming in the falling light. They circled each other, lashing out with desperate strokes as the battle neared its end.

 _When both sides think they are right._

The tom hissed his misfortune as he leaped at the queen, clamping his jaws about her neck. Both cats were scrawny, unkempt, ribs protruding as the night fell. He bit down harder, eyes desperate as cats fell to the ground all around.

 _In this utter chaos, with desperation as its fuel,_

Reaching the battle scene late was a rugged-furred tabby, black and brown mixing like the bark of a tree. With terror in his eyes, he leapt at the tom, pushing him off the dying tortoiseshell.

 _All they want is for the battle to end._

Yowls of triumph came from the cats around this tabby, for the long fought battle had finally been won. But the cost was high, and cats lay in the blood-stained snow, breathing their last farewells.

 _But when it does, do they realize the cost?_

From the joyous howls came the tabby's mournful ones, muzzle deep in her orange and black fur. Four other lives died with that one too, tiny kits destined never to see the light of day. Never to even live.

 _All the lives that were lost?_

The vigil was held that night, and the clan no longer rejoiced. But the cats resumed with their daily lives, fighting the struggle to survive, sometimes winning a battle, always losing the war. All except for that faithful tabby, who slept at her side for the last time that night. His legacy was gone, and so was his love.

 _Was it worth that prey? That land?_

The tabby hunted fretfully that day, ripping his prey in anger and scaring them in his sorrow. His mind was away, in the land of the dead, where that beautiful queen now slept. Wrought with grief, he wanted her to come back. For nothing to have ever changed.

 _To see your loved ones meeting their end?_

Border patrols were nothing but reminders of that fateful day, and always he stumbled over unseen obstacles. Other cats were met with a sense of dread. They went on with their lives, he dwelled in the past. He wished it had never changed.

 _Oh, battles can be such bloodthirsty things._

Each day, the tabby abandoned his prey, choosing to stare at the stars. Was his love really there, watching over him? Was there really one more star in the endless sky?

 _This we know is true._

The tabby dreamed of blood-stained snow, of desperate yowls and the chaos of battle. His paws churned the air in an effort to change what had already been done. To change the unchangeable. To reroute the past.

 _But after them, what will we do?_

Consoling calls flew straight out his ears, and the tabby's fur grew ragged, unkempt. Hatred boiled inside him, seasoned with sorrow and doused in grief. The other clan had killed his love, and he could no longer go on.

 _Drown in sorrow and doubt?_

Sneaking out of camp, the tabby slinked to his enemy's home, eyes turned cold and calculating. He watched, hidden, at the entrance of camp, waiting for his chance.

 _Or continue to fight the war of life?_

"Mommy, where is dad?"

"Gone… gone… he died fighting for what he thought was right."

"Is he ever coming back?"

"No, little one. But we must move on, we won't live drowning in our own sorrow."

"But I don't want to forget him."

"Then don't. Remember him forever."

 _The choice is up to you._

The tabby slipped back into his own territory, the mother's words ringing in his ears. _Remember her forever…_

 _Oh, Fernlight, you won't ever come back. But eventually… eventually we will meet again. Until then, my love, I won't ever forget you. I promise. There are so many stars in this sky… how many cats have died? How many will fade in the mists of time? Not you. I promise. Not even for a single heartbeat._ The tabby curled up in his mossy bed, his breath finally at peace.

 _Yes, battles can be such bloodthirsty things_

 _When both sides think they are right._

 _Blood will be shed, lives will be lost,_

 _But life will move on._

 _They only won one battle_

 _They still might lose this war._

 _But until then, they must remember,_

 _Remember,_

 _Forever,_

 _Until then, they must remember_

 _Everyone who lost that war_

 _To keep them fighting strong._

 _For in the fight to survive,_

 _There must be sacrifice._

 _There must be loss._

 _We live in a dog eat dog world_

 _Where life must be fought for._

 _Remember._

 _Remember them all._

* * *

 _Fight the fight_

 _Win the battles_

 _Lose the war._


	5. Lost

**Challenge for Night Stalkers (DarkClan)**

Lost - A Kit's Story

"Come on! Let's play moss ball!"

"Sorry, Mothkit. I'm an apprentice now, I don't have time to play."

"Can I help you with those reeds?"

"You're a little too small, Mothkit."

"Do you need help with those herbs?"

"No, Mothkit."

"Dad! Can I help you patrol?"

"Stay in camp, Mothkit."

"Do you need help cleaning out the elders den?"

"No, Mothkit."

"Does anyone want my help?!"

"Look, I know you're lonely because you're the only kit in camp… Just… go play in the corner by yourself, Mothkit."

Sulking, a small, wispy grey she-kit hangs her neck, tail swishing with just a tad of an angry lash, shoulders hunched and long fur scraping the ground as her ears twitch in agitation. She is a strong kit, with a slender frame and a thick pelt that is oblivious to the cold. The agitated kit is mainly willow-grey, but her face is charged with ash black that stretches to reach her neck and nicks her willow ears. The same, dark color, like that of a moonless night, dips her legs and feet, tattering the point where they meet the body. Misting her spine and feathery tail is soot-grey stretching to reach that same midnight black. Her fur is long, thick, and fluffy, denser around the neck and tail, and her soft grey eyes are hardened in anger.

The willow kit sulks away, black paws low to the ground, shoulders hunched and head low, as if she were creeping up on prey. Her smooth gait is chastened by her right front leg, bent at an awkward angle below the knee, causing her paw to scrape clumsily against the ground as a limp strikes its way into her sulk.

"I don't see why I have to stay in camp like a kit! I'm eight moons old, for StarClan's sake!" she muttered under her breath, bullying herself into the nursery. "I can't help the way I was born! And some twisted paw isn't going to stop me from becoming a warrior!" Her eyes flit around the fern-enclosed nursery, deepened by sadness as she looked at the only nest within it. Her own nest. The rest of the kits had become 'paws, and even her own mother had left her alone in the barren den.

"I can't live like this…" she whispered, despair deepening her gaze. "I can't live like this!" she yowled, muzzle pointing towards the ebony sky as she wailed a kits laments.

Mothkit paced at the edge of camp, watching warrior after warrior disappear into their dens. Dusk light illuminated her coat, a shimmering shadow with twisted hope. Last of all, her mother vanished into her den, licking cheerfully a cat's ear as her forgotten kit fell deeper into an ocean of despair. _Does she even care about me? Care about what I am about to do? It is as if she forgot she even had a kit._ The night guard shifted uneasily in foreboding wind, his back turned as the shimmering shadow slipped out of camp, dashing off without a single look back, her twisted leg dragging against the soft grass as she struggled to move as fast as possible, leaving deep furrows in the stony ground. _If I am to stay a kit, then I am not to stay at all. I'll show them what a kit can do._

The moon was a sliver of reflection, a glinting claw that bounded across the sky, graceful as a fierce bird of prey soaring across its domain. Mothkit stared up at the moon, breath coming in ragged gasps as she fell to the cold stone ground, a ragged heap of dying light. Strikes of a thorn shot through her twisted leg, brief stings of fire that ripped at her veins. She nudged it lightly, before struggling back to her paws, looking desperately towards the sky for guidance. _What now?_

Her eyes lit upon the cliff that enclosed their valley, one that no cat had ever scaled. _I'm not a useless kit anymore. You just wait!_ Stubborn determination darkened her gaze and fogged her mind, and the kit padded towards the sheer face of rock. Her claws extended, and she leaped onto a ridge in the rock. Hanging on with her good front paw, the kit scrabbled against the stone, claws scoring shallow marks as she bullied herself upwards to the next foothold. _Just… one paw here, another there. Oh, how my leg hurts. If I leap up this way, I might be able to grab a hold there. Yes, yes, just a little bit more, come on leg, don't fail me now! Huff huff, don't look down, come on, I can do this. Yes, up there, a bush! If I can hook my claws into that, I will be able to rest for a while. Just one more leap, almost there, one… two… three! Oh, that hurt, I didn't think of my leg getting the way, let's just give it a quick lick. Oh, that was a bad idea, it hurts so much now. I'm not sure I can make it like this._

The kit heaved herself onto a cropping of rock a good ways up the rock face as dawn peeked into the valley, her shadows long as the grey heap collapsed in a heap of heaving fur. The kit's bad leg was bruised and bloody, unable to escape danger as she scrambled up sheer rock. Each time she moved, thorns of pain increased, until she couldn't breathe for the shock of it all. And so the kit lay unmoving, rasping against the wind that threatened to sweep her off the ledge. Looking down, the kit blinked dizzily as she saw the forest trees winking in cold mist. Looking up, the kit gasped audibly as the rock face stretched into the clouds, unable to see the end as it disappeared like a tuft of smoke. _It didn't seem this far up when I started. Maybe I should head back… but I've come so far. It's as if I can't go either way._

Mothkit froze as the mountain growled above her, its booming call curling her ears in sheer intensity. Terror grasped her spine like a cruel, withered hand as flecks of rocks pummeled towards her, set off by some unseen force. The flecks turned to mice as they rent through the air, and the mice grew to the size of a full-grown cat as they ripped and tumbled over the mountain face. The first reached her small overhang, and the kit scrambled to avoid it as flecks began to pummel her side. With a rumble of menace the rock missed her by a whisker, rebounding off the ledge as it plummeted towards the ground below. As more rocks shot past, bouncing off the edge of the cliff-face, Mothkit felt her platform crumble beneath her paws. First, bits and pieces drifted away, before snarling cracks spread like fire beneath her feet and the whole platform crumbled, leaving Mothkit to plummet towards the ground below. The rocks that had once been her savior on the sheer rock face now pummeled her sides, leaving deep red scratches in her long fur. Mothkit felt her body being flicked away as a boulder crashed into her side with a sickening, snapping sound. She screeched in fear and terror as pain bombarded the side where ribs had split beneath the impact.

The whole ordeal lasted less than a minute before the kit impacted the ground, her muzzle smashed and body fractured as dust clouded her still form. Around her, rubble bounced to the ground, impenetrable boulders shattering with the impact, cracks seeping into their side.

But the kit twitched. Then breathed. Then sighed a wistful sigh as the world misted around her.


	6. Kidnapped

**Challenge for StormClan! It was fun to write, but I think I could have done better.**

Kidnapped

"What's going on?"

"HawkClan's attacking!"

"What?!"

A small kit blinked from sleep as voices pummeled his ears causing him to flinch as the air twitched uneasily around him.

"Guard the nursery!"

"I'm trying!"

The kit felt, rather than saw, shadows encase him as a burly white tom entered the entrance to the nursery, his paws and muzzle bathed in blood, a twisted fang emerging from his growl like a jagged rock.

"Who are you?" the kit mewed, his voice small in the crescendoing chaos.

"I've come to take you home," his voice was a snarl, but it was loving all the same.

"Home? This is my home," the kit turned, his eyes open yet sightless as he stared blankly at the frosty tom. The tom only snorted in disgust, before digging his fangs into the kits scruff.

"What are you doing?" the kit cried, feeling the jagged tooth pierce his fur as the acrid stench of blood washed over his nostrils. The kit felt hot breath on his ears and warm liquid that trickled over his fur, creeping along like a withered spider. "Momma!" he wailed, fear trickling down his fur like the warm blood that pulled on the ground.

Without warning the kit was roughly thrown to the cold, snow-racked ground. He scrambled to his feet, sightless eyes glancing wildly around as he tried to discern what was going on. _I smell… I smell mom!_ He thought as warm fur brushed against his, _Mom, you've come! Please, you can't leave me! You promised you'd protect me forever! Wait, mom, what's going on? I can hear you fighting with that jagged-toothed cat, are you ok? There's blood dripping down your side- I can smell it. Don't worry. I believe in you. Is he gone now? I can hear the blows have ceased. Mom, why haven't you come back to me? If you had one the fight you would be here now! Mom! He's come back, that jagged tooth is digging into my fur again. His muzzle is sticky with the fresh scent of blood. Is that your blood? Where have you gone? Oh, mom, the smells of our camp are disintegrating, the air is fresh with strange scents as it batters my side. I'm scared, mom. You said you'd protect me in this world, where are you now? If you were alive I would be able to heal your desperate wail…_

 _Mom, I can touch ground again. It's not soft and earthy like we used to know. Oh, and I can feel the tom's gaze boring into my back. He's noticed, mom. Noticed I'm sightless. I'm scared, mom. I yearn to smell your scent again, to hear your muffled purrs. You said you'd be with me forever…_

 _Mom, it hurts! His jagged tooth is ripping at my side, I can feel my own blood pooling at my paws. I want to fight him, mom, but my paws keep landing in air. I'm falling now, crashing to the ground. It's becoming hard to breathe. Mom, are you watching me? I don't think I can take it anymore…_

 _Is that your scent, mom? Are you here? I can feel your pelt rubbing against mine, hear your muffled purrs of delight. But they seem tinged with sadness, mom. What happened? My body no longer aches in pain, it's becoming easier to breath, the ground is soft beneath my paws once more. I'm happy to be with you again, mom._


	7. Trail of Lightning- The Crossing

**A challenge for the forum Bright Lights.**

Putrid. That was how she would describe it. Putrid, deathly, the scent of hate and bloodlust, of fear and malicious intent, of a sharp tang that burned the air. The smell was like none she had felt before, albeit smelled faintly on other's pelts. It was cold yet burning, of death and disease, carrion and crowfood. It seared through her scent glands with a poisonous stench.

A quivering paw raked the ground, its surface gravelly, yet smooth, scorching her soft, forest pad. She licked it clean, shriveling at the taste- the taste of biting tang, of all things unnatural, of burning plastic and glaring eyes that swept the gleaming ground. A roaring bellow curled her ears as she shrunk back from the midnight path, and a beast loomed fast into view. Its eyes were hard, glaring, beaming, searching for its prey. Its surface was smooth, metallic, bullying through the air with sharp cackles that bellowed from deep inside. Paws loomed large, harsh, round, beasts unto themselves that thundered like the sky's stormy soldiers as they beat the obsidian path. As the beast bellowed past, air hissed around, serpents writhing in its wake. They tore at her fur, wreathing around her, silver serpents that glistened on every hair, before bounding away towards the giggling stars as her fur fell flat once more.

She shivered.

She felt cold. Deathly cold, fearfully cold with realization. It was this feeling she didn't like- the feeling of being a predator forced to become prey. The thunderpath was not for her.

The cat pushed her feelings down, rubbing dirt off her whiskers to hide her unease. The cat was black, cold black, a night with no stars, when the moon is covered by draconian clouds. Her nose twitched, her muzzle dark, her hair mangy, long and tangled. She forced herself to stand, and listened for the monster's shriek, her whiskers tingling as they waited for the tremors that threatened to tear the earth. But the world was deathly silent.

She dashed, her heart racing, paws pounding, chest heaving in tides. Her legs pushed her forward, traction surprising on the gritty ground, and fear wafted off her in waves, an acrid, foreboding stench. She trembled, diving in the thistly brambles, bullying her way to the other side, her midnight tail whisking out of view. Her first crossing had gone off without a hitch.

Sometimes life is easier than it seems.

 **Huh...**


	8. Nightly Murders- Hope's Fatal Error

**Another challenge for Night Stalkers. This was fun to write, it's been a while since I took things from this viewpoint.**

Hope's Fatal Error

Wailing, shrill wailing, the call of grief without cease. It filled the camp every morning, wrought chilling air with its piercing pitch as it wrenched and tore into the hearts of these cats. These brave, helpless cats. They didn't know what to do, how could they? They were just scared… so scared. Scared and helpless.

The unknown has a way of doing that to you.

I remember being terrified, my muscles stricken as if I had contracted the plague. It wasn't the plague I had contracted. It was something much more… sinister.

There was a spirit in my body- malicious, deadly. It had eyes that seeped into my soul, and I swear that it had the scent of death and stifling blood, of putrid sickness and withering disease, of hate and malice and draconian nature. The scent drank in the chaos, the hatrid, the malice, feeding off our despair. You may not believe me, but the scent was there. It was real.

And it was pure evil.

Evil has a way of seeming harmless and cliché in the tales told to kits. It seems purely there to be antagonistic, a joke to be pushed off as the hero's success. That's not evil as I know it- this was _true_ evil. A spirit that held everything terrible in this world, that wanted nothing more than to watch it burn. It radiated such a presence that I swear flowers wilted in its wake, that with a whisk of its tail sickness spread like the plague, that death followed its every footsteps and tears created a river behind it. It held everything terrible about this world, everything unnatural, everything sickly, everything dastardly. It was the being of hate, power, lust, revenge, darkness, fear, sickness, death, despair, the unknown, all in one terrible package. It was nightmarish, demonic, sending hellish scenes of death and disease, of carrion and crowfood. There was no _good_ in this creature, there was no defeat in its wake, no hero could slay it with one blow, nor thousands dealt with the sharpest blade.

Sometimes it's hard to accept that.

That's the way it was with my clan. Cats fell asleep in fear every night, and shrieking and wailing was the rooster's call. Cats fell like mice beneath the spirit's claws, their deaths hidden in a cloak of darkness, the predator's turned prey in their own dens.

Of course, no one knew what was causing these nightly murders. That was what frightened them most. How do you fight an enemy, if you don't know what you are fighting?

But I know who it was.

I woke up one morning with blood on my claws, my shadow engulfing my presence. I had sensed the spirit inside me before, but now I knew what it meant.

Yes, I had killed them all. Killed them all while my body slept, and the spirit ran rampant in my mind. I imagine myself looking crazed, with a look of death in my eye, blood seeping over my coat, cats falling around me, light fleeing at my presence. I imagine anyone who saw it tangled their paws in terror, eyes wild and heart leaping at the pure _evil_ in it all. I'll never know. They're all dead now.

Of course I told the clan right away. I had seen with my own eyes what terror it was bringing, how each death tore the clan apart like silk with faulty seams. I didn't wish to keep my own life if this is what it caused. I was a good cat, there was no denying that.

None of them believed me. How could they? They said I was a loyal cat, said I would never do anything to them, said they had always trusted me with their life, and always would.

Fools, I'll admit, but what were they supposed to do? Exile the only member of the clan holding them together?

I wouldn't have done it differently if I was them. The answer was clear as day. She was just trying to help the clan by telling them the threat was gone, cooling their jumbled nerves. The tenser one gets, the more paranoid they become.

Any good cat would have done the same, and there was no doubt I was a good cat.

Poor fools, destroyed by their own faith.

It makes my heart weep.

I'm dead now, I've gone to the stars, the spirit has departed from my body. They don't hold it against me. I was a good cat- no one doubts that.

The spirit hasn't left, though. No, the spirit still haunts this clan.

Why?

Only it knows, and I can't imagine it ever telling us. We would be dead before it could speak a word, hearts shredded just by seeing the beast's presence. This being is so far out of our understanding that if we realized the true evil it really is, our heart's would quite likely burst. We're a weak race, no matter what anyone says. It's because we hold hope in our hearts.

Hope that something good is there.

And when you realize that there isn't?

What will happen then?


	9. Hedera- Song: Repeat

**Another challenge for Night Stalkers- this one is a song challenge. It was fun to write but, boy, do I write pretty strangely when I'm listening to a single song on repeat the whole time. I did the song challenge while listening to "Destiny Bond" by Trickywi on Youtube. To be clear, I don't own the lyric on the top of the song nor the lyric on the bottom.**

 _"An eye for an eye…"_

Breath rent the frosty air, clouds of stalking ice that crusted onto her whiskers as she ran. Her frosty breath was ragged, wrought with fear and despair and doubt. Her eyes were glazed and wild, tinged with hope, racked with fear. Paws pounded against the cold stone ground as she pelted through the tunnels that she called home, her ears brushing against the dusty darkness. Her nose twitched as scents filled it- scents of the cold underground, of chilling rocks, creeping roots, shifting dirt. Of others like her- their scents calm and cold, like the obsidian that soon slipped beneath her paws, smooth and icy and unwelcoming. They were sleeping- she could hear their soft sighs and gurgles as they slipped farther into dream's hold, the world that held everything yet nothing.

She breathed a sigh of relief in the dank air as she caught scent of her pursuer. "Hedera!" the one who was fleeing called, her voice rough and ragged from the long run. "Hedera! It's only you! I thought…" the ragged voice trailed off as she turned to face her friend, beady black eyes picking up her features. Yes, they were ones she knew, ones that were very familiar. The cold scars that wrecked her long, brown ears- a story she refused to tell. Her twitching nose and ragged fur, thick and scarred and wiry. The scent was familiar, a scent of friendly ice, her gaze was comforting, black eyes staring fixedly at her.

Hedera lunged.

She shrieked with pain as her friend tackled her, long back legs pummeling her side, sharp claws tearing it without cease. She gasped, then turned tail and ran, her cotton tail shining in the prickly light that seeped through rock and stone to get her. Screeching to a halt, the tunnel ended in a small hollow, a heart of the earth torn by one long, scathing claw that dipped into the stone. Hedera stood at the entrance, and her small opposer stared back at the friend turned enemy, shock and realization flooding her gaze.

 _How had I not noticed before?_ Hedera's scent was not friendly- it was cold and scathing, nightmarish, demonic, the scent of death and blood, of wilted plants and withered trees, of carrion and crow-food, of ice and coldness and revenge. Her eyes held no friendly glow- they shivered with malice and disgust, with hate and greed and lust, with death and despair and demonic intent. And yet inside they held misery, deep and wide and scathing as a river long tumbling, wearing its stone holder. Her scarred ear was ragged and torn, her withered body rippling with power that could end it all with one slash, long, twisted fangs frowning with disgust.

She had thought that Hedera was a friend- someone who could relate to her, someone she could relate to.

Now?

Now she was a nightmare. A foe. A demon.

Her cold black eyes filled with heart-tearing surprise as the traitor stepped forward, their gaze sad, despairing, questioning. Then she blinked, and emotion was gone. She had lived too long to die at the hands of a siren.

She felt power fill her muscles. She felt as if she could run forever, destroy boulders with one slash, tear trees from their roots with her shining fangs. She felt as if the world held no limit, that with a flick of her paw she could rip the earth, shake it to its roots. She had felt such power before. Now its meaning became clear.

 _With one touch, I can crush you, Hedera. But I'll be polite and wait here. You'll soon know the power I hold._

Hedera lunged, sinking jagged teeth into her throat with a screech of age-old intensity, of rage and power and hate. "I'll kill you!"

She choked, but her muscles rippled in her small frame. She twisted her head, then sank her own shining fangs into Hedera's scarred neck, her rough and ragged voice but a whisper of death, "Then you will die with me."

 _"Is it your destiny to cause your own misery?"_

 **Well... that was interesting, to say the least.**

 **Note: Hedera is another name for ivy. Just thought you should know the name origin.**


	10. Disgraced- A Mother's Love

**And... another challenge for Night Stalkers**

Disgrace- A Mother's Love

A small kit's nose quivered, his short whiskers twitching with excitement as he scrunched a small, pink nose. The kit was pure, icy white, except for dark black that smudged his face as if he was a star in a cold, starless night. His large, heather eyes blinked away small particles that threatened to cloud his vision as intently he stared, his stocky body stock-still, not even a twitch to the feathery tail as his gaze intently fixed upon the camp entrance. Only his small, pink nose quivered, his short whiskers twitching with excitement.

The thorn tunnel rustled, and the kit's cupped ears perked, their forms sunk into his icy fur. He stretched forwards, pink nose scrunching farther as one cotton paw slipped into the air, muscles tensed with anticipation. Then cats formed in the bramble haze, silhouettes darkening in the failing light. He spotted the small, lithe form of a warrior and sunk back onto his haunches, disappointment drifting off his form in swooning waves. The cat materialized out of the haze, stalking past the small kit, her paws high in annoyance as her long, feathered tail slowly swept the ground. _Swish. Swish._

The kit refused to take his gaze off the tunnel, his pink nose quivering once more and his stocky form statuesque in the ebbing dusk light. He failed to see the frosty white she-cat cast her heather eyes back at him with deep longing in her gaze, mixed with that of motherly love and searing pain as the kit refused to give her a glance. Longing, despair, and love came off her in tides more powerful than a crashing waterfall, and the white cat's step faltered as she swooned from intensity of emotion, her white coat ragged and unkempt.

And then her gaze broke, and her stalk became a sulk, her feathery tail dusting the ground as away to the warriors den she trudged, a mutinous look scheming upon her face. _Swish. Swish._

The kit rose from his spot in one great leap, toppling a large black warrior in the dust as he, too, appeared from the brambles. "Dad!" he cried.

The icy warrior turned at his call, and her heather gaze hardened as the stocky cat rolled in the dust, joy pure and unkempt on his face. And then, with a flick of her feathery tail, she vanished back into the mist, revenge fueling her silent race. _Swish. Swish._

"It was Darkheart! I saw him! He took a burning ember from the twoleg fire and threw it into the forest!" The icy she-cat's call was loud and clear- not a trace of doubt straggling within. The burly black tom took a step back as the clan's gaze swept over him, his leader's frosty glare the last to land against his carefree pelt.

"What are you…?" the stocky black cat stammered, voice shocked and filtered with boiling rage. "I would never-"

"Silence!" came the leader's call. "I have no reason not to believe Froststrike- she is my most trusted warrior. Plus, she warned us about the fire before any cat could- how could she do that if she could not see when it was caused? It is because of her that none of us died, and because of you that every clan will starve." His voice became dark with fury, and this drove him on. "Darkheart must be executed! If it were not for Froststrike, every one of us would be dead!"

"Executed…?" Froststrike echoed, the words dry on her mouth. _I never meant for this!_

"Yes," the leader turned, addressing her with gratitude before leaping down from his perch on the large willow tree, his hooked claws unsheathing. "He will pay. He will pay by my own claws!" The last words came in a screech as the tom hurled himself at Darkheart, ripping long, deep strokes across his flank. The dark tom's pelt turned crimson, and his shocked form fell to the floor, scarlet swirling up from his midnight throat, a night bathed in a crimson sheen. With the leader's fury unsheathed, he stepped away, watching the tom die as dawn light glittered upon his pelt.

"Daddy!" the kit screeched, racing towards the limp cat. "Daddy!" His paws thundered on the dusty ground, before they stopped abruptly with the swish of Froststrike's feathered tail. She pulled the kit closer as he sobbed, his frosty muzzle buried in her long winter coat. "He left me…"

"I will never leave you," she whispered, voice cracked with overwhelming emotion. "It's only fair…"

The fire of a mother's love swept into her gaze as the two cats huddled in the clearing alone, soot drenching their frosty fur. The other cats had left just as soon as they could. No cat wanted to stare death in the face. "Never?" the kit squeaked, his eyes turning up at the frosty she-cat.

"Never," she soothed, her words bent with the power of their meaning. "Never, my kit…"

 _I'm sorry, Darkheart. I didn't mean to do this to you. It just wasn't fair! Our kit, with his beautiful heather eyes… It wasn't fair that he ignored me! Cast me aside like a piece of crowfood! And it was all because of you…_

 _But it wasn't supposed to end like this…_

 _I just wanted my kit to love me back._


End file.
